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Zeal
Itried to shove the man off my chosen, but his lack of faith was so strong that he didn't even budge. Nariana would be ok, though. She could breathe, so his attempts to drown her wouldn't work. Not in my tears. Yet my helplessness made mefurious.Once, I had been so strong, and now I was a withered, pathetic shell of myself.
I hadn't wanted to tell these people how weak I truly was, but they didn't seem to care. Or they did, but not in the way I'd expected. They wanted to make me stronger. To return me to my former glory, and I honestly believed they could. But right now, that wouldn't help me at all. I'd promised my chosen that I would take care of her, and I needed a lot more strength to do that.
A thought carried me to the door, where I pushed at the bar, struggling to raise it, but I couldn't. Not evenhere, in my own domain, could I manipulate the world in front of non-believers. I could alter some thoughts, I could tempt, but I could not do theonething I needed. If I wanted to have any of my power, I needed a little faith.
Then I felt the door shudder from the outside. Evidently, Talin had heard me, but that thought was also my answer. Hebelieved, and a lot stronger than I'd expected. In some ways, his faith was stronger than Nariana's. She believed in me because she could see me. He believed in me because he needed me, and right now, I needed him.
So I stepped through the wood and right into his body. The moment that mortal flesh closed around me, I began to take over. The faith running through his veins, laced across his body, and marked inside his arm all fueled my rage, so I roared. Talin had been slamming his shoulder into the wood, so I would do it better. I was a god now, and the man I was riding would make me stronger than I'd been in decades.
The first impact made the wood of the bar crack. The second made it splinter. It was the fourth that finally broke through. Pathetic for a god, but I would worry about that later. Pumping this man's legs, I raced to where the candle lit a writhing pool of water. Nariana had pulled the priest in with her, but I couldn't tell which one was winning. Not until I reached beneath the surface.
My hand closed on wet fabric, and I pulled, throwing Kinen out of the water and onto the stones, hard. He gasped, both at the impact and his need for air, but was too stunned to move. Nariana came up a moment later, coughing my tears from her lungs, but she pointed at him. That meant she was ok, or at least ok enough, and this idiot was going to pay.
"Can you get out?" I asked her even as I turned back to the High Priest.
"Zeal?" she asked.
"I needed the body," I said as I closed the distance between the water and the man I'd just thrown from it. "Your guardian is not fighting me, so I assume that means he approves."
"Just don't hurt him?" she begged.
I knew she meant Talin, not the High Priest. I couldn't really hurt either of them. If Kinen was found dead after being alone with her, then she would be the only one who paid. Instead, my Chosen had inadvertently given me the one weapon that might stay his hand.
The type of tears didn't matter, only that they were mine. By pulling this idiot into the water, Nariana had given me the chance to remove my favor from his skin, and he wouldn't get it back easily. It would also be hard to explain to anyone else, which meant he was about to becomeverycompliant.
When I reached the High Priest, I bent, staring in his eyes. "She is my chosen," I warned him. "I will watch over her."
Then I pulled at his robe, tearing the seam and splitting buttons to reveal the man beneath. He was clothed, wearing the sort of fashionable thing he valued most. Annoyed, I grabbed handfuls of that as well, ripping his shirt like it was made of paper. Finally, I saw what I truly wanted: the man's bare, pasty chest.
His flesh was soft from years behind a desk. His waist was thick from multiple lavish meals. His lace, however, was missing. The collar that marked him as a Priest of the Word had only been there because I'd given it to him. Now, I'd taken it away.
"You can't kill me," Kinen whimpered.
I just leaned a little closer. "Do you know who I am, priest? You serve at my mercy, just like this body I ride.Mine, do you hear me?"
"That's impossible," he breathed.
A cruel smile curled my lips. "And yet, here I am. Listen to me. Look into my eyes..." And I pushed a little closer to the surface of this man, allowing my true self to shine through. "Look deep."
"By the gods..." he whispered, losing himself in my gaze.
"You have been stripped of my love. Hide it if you want; I honestly do not care. Do your job well, and I may reconsider. Threaten my Chosen again, and I will reveal you to the entire temple as a fraud. I will whisper to each of them how you are threatened by the Priestess of Temptation because your own marks are gone. I will tempt them to demand a viewing, so they can seeyourfalse marks. I will never let up until you are exposed as the fraud you are. Tell them you slipped. Blame the wet stones - or anything else - but make it clear that Priestess Nariana walks in the footsteps of her god. She walks hand in hand with me, and I will destroy this entire city before I give her up. Am I being clear enough?"
"Ye... yes," he stuttered.
"Thensay my name!" I demanded.
He had to swallow before he could manage, "Zeal."
I was about to straighten when a gentle hand landed on this body's shoulder. It was Nariana, and she was using me for support, yet she forced herself to stand before this man, baring every inch of her now lace-marked skin.
"Do you see me, Priest Kinen?" she asked. "Look hard."
His eyes ran down her body, but so did mine. I'd done even better this time. The lace on her arms went as high as before, but this time the top edge swirled to match Wraythe's marks. The pattern across her chest was a beautiful one, still feminine, but dramatic enough to make it clear she had my support. In the center, it dipped down the way she liked, looking more like a necklace than a collar. Beneath that, her pattern was more dense, creating an elegant corset of swirls. That blended into the marks on her hips, turning into bands across both thighs, complete with the curling pattern down the back of both her legs.
And just beneath the hollow of her throat was the symbol of my revival. The five-headed snake of those who would save the gods.
